The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1887-07-08
A vAssAR COLLEGE SPREE.
/ Mysterious Midnight Spread-Ths
Martyr of the Tin Basin.

A Mysterious Midnight spread-Tha
Martyr of the Tin Basin.
Bearer to the heart of college students
than all public occasions of social life are
the cosy private spreads. Only college
girl knows the meaning of a college
spread. 1t is proof of the depravity of
human nature that no spread is perfect
unless held after 10 o'clock, when in the
midst of the hilarity each feels the in
huence of prospective summons from
her corridor teacher to receive a sermon
on the value of law and order? Try to
imagine yourself an unseen spectator at
mysterious midnight spread. You see
large room all ablaze with light, but
with blinds shut and curtains drawn, and
a gossamer waterproof draped carefully
over the transora, lest the rays should
annoy some outsider. Within is a medley.
Books are out of the way for once. and
the table is covered with miscellaneous
collection Of plates, saucers, glasses,
cup or two, a few spoons, rarely a kx41fe
and fork. Among these are scattereiaaS-
loaf of bread, bag of crackers, pots of
deviled ham and jelly, bottle of olives,
a pitcher of milk and another of oysters.
Half dozen girls were in the room, one
of them anxiously inspecting the water
in tin basin that she is carefully hold
ing over the flame of drop light. The
rest are scattered about the room In atti-
tudes more or less graceful. The bed,
the chairs and the rugs ON the floor are
equally patronized. All the girls are
making frantic endeavors to evolve q
theory as to the making of oyster soup,
and as the theories gradually take
definite shape they are hurled at the
MARTYR of the tin basin
''You must heat the water first, then
the milk, and put in the oysters just be-
fore it is done" remarks one sage cook
from the depths of an easy chair.
mo. you don'ti you don't want any
water-just milk and oysters boiled to-
gether, says number two, ccsied like
kitten on a rug.
''You must heat the oysters sepa-
rately," calls grave, oratorical voice
from among the pillows.
Girls, said the martyr, looking
around with an heroic air, ''you don't
one of you know the first thing about it.
I'm making this soup, and if you don't
like it when it is done, you can come and
make some yourselves. - Just ct present !
have the floor
She confirms her statement by q vigo
rous gesture that threatens the equilib
rum Of the TIN basin, and the others own
themselves obHterated and apply their
genius to other topics. The soup done, it
is served III cups, or glasses, on saucers,
and is prom runced perfect. The suffer
ing martyr has become a smiling saint,
and sits triumphantly On the edge of the
table, while some one spreads a cracker
with jam for her benefit. The tide ..
fun rises. Again and again a laugh
rings out to be smothered in the midst
by the tragic gasp, ''Girl's, somebody's
coming' But no one comes, and after
oysters have been eaten, college news dis
cussed, and narrowing ghost stories told
in the darkened room, the girls steal
away with a reckless declaration that
they have had fun enough to pay for
whole weeks funks. Mag
aZiDo